


Queer as in fuck you

by Catharrington



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Punk, Crossdressing, Femme Steve Harrington, First Date, Genderfluid, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Slurs, college age, punk Billy Hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catharrington/pseuds/Catharrington
Summary: ‘The clock is ticking away on Steve’s bed side table. He doesn’t have long before Billy’s going to come pick him up for their first date. Well really, their first real date. Coffee is one thing, and it’s always an amazing time, but the day they turned in their Philosophy of the Modern Era class’ joint essay, Billy actually asked him out on a really real date.’
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 25
Kudos: 166





	Queer as in fuck you

**Author's Note:**

> [part one please read this first](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/post/616139207488028672/how-do-u-feel-abt-doing-smth-like-a-modern-au)
> 
> This is a continuation of the above amazing amazing piece by Yikes_Writes and yikesharringrove on tumblr. The Au belongs to her I’m just playing in this sandbox ;)

Steve is walking up and down the length of his bed, arms crossed, trying to decide on what to wear. He’s got half of his closet laid out on his sheets, covering his pillows and few stuffed animals, and even after an hour of deciding he still hasn’t done much narrowing.

The clock is ticking away on his bed side table. He doesn’t have long before Billy’s going to come pick him up for their first date. Well really, their first real date.

Coffee is one thing, and it’s always an amazing time, but the day they turned in their Philosophy of the Modern Era class’ joint essay, Billy actually asked him out on a really real date.

He had jogged to catch up with Steve after class, his metal pins jingled a little when he ran. And his cheeks flushed as he smiled. “One of my favorite gigs is coming to a club close in town. Dog Park Dissidents, they’re great. I’m sure you’ll love them. So... wanna go together?” Billy asked.

Steve was distracted buy how cute Billy looked that day. The way his nose piercing scrunched with his nose when he was anxious, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Oh, I remember you were wearing their shirt the first day you helped me find class,” he blurted out. Steve couldn’t stop himself, he felt he’s cheeks flush red.

He muttered out a little squeak of “sorry, that’s dumb,” before burying his face inside his hands. Thankfully, he was wearing long enough sweater sleeves to bunch them in his palms and was spared from slapping himself too hard.

“Nah,” Billy had said. Lifting one hand to tuck a lock of long brunette hair behind Steve’s ear. “That’s really cute.”

Of course, Steve was like putty in Billy’s hands after that. He agreed to the time and promised he was excited to go with him. Steve really was excited to go with Billy, but he was every bit as nervous to go out in public as he had been years ago. Back in Hawkins.

Steve had spent two days biting his thumb in class. Two days typing out sunflower emojis next to Billy’s name and deleting them; all but one. He was trying to power up a supply of courage as the days ticked closer and closer. Only once he entertained the idea of acting sick.

Then, on Friday before their class, Billy was sitting nervously at his desk when Steve came in. It was wonderful to see him fidget, and endearing, but a little suspicious.

Sitting down at his desk, slipping his hands under his butt to make sure his skirt was tucked in, Steve didn’t have to wait long. Billy uncrossed his arms from atop of his desk and shows Steve the bundle of black fabric. It’s his band tshirt, the same shirt Billy was wearing the day they met, and it’s folded up neatly.

With a slight tilt of his head, Billy slides the shirt over to Steve. “If you want to borrow it, to wear it for the show, you’re more than welcome, pretty boy.”

Steve takes the shirt and holds it tightly to his chest. “Of course I’ll wear it! Thanks, thank you, Billy,” he whispers. For the rest of the class Steve can’t stop smiling.

So Steve stops powdering his nose for the third time that night. He knows his makeup looks good, knows he’s decided to be happy to go on this date in public, he really is, no matter how scared he is.

On his bed Steve decides to stick to Billy’s shirt. To match it, he slips on a baby pink pleated skirt and pulls a purple denim jacket out from the back of his closest. The jacket is older, fits him baggy and has frayed on the edges enough to make him fiddle with the strands.

But he looks good in his full length mirror under the glow of his fairy lights. He looks punk rock.

Steve decides to even go the full length and pulls out his favorite pair of white thigh high tights. He snaps them into place and is admiring the way the fat of his thighs bunch over the elastic when there’s a knock at his door.

His phone sings off his ring tone at the same time. Steve glances down to see Billy’s name and his little sunflower emoji pop up on his screen

“YO I’m here ;)”

Steve just chuckled, leaving his phone on his nightstand. “I heard you knocking,” Steve teased him as he opened the door. But his joking tone died on his lips.

Billy was leaned against the doorframe with one arm and the other playing with an unlit cigarette between his lips. His hair, Steve couldn’t stop his eyes from following up and up, was styled to a point. All the curls and softness Billy usually let lay were pressed and pointed to one sharp mohawk across his head.

“Wow,” Steve breathes.

“Is that a good wow?” Billy chuckled nervously. Tucking the smoke behind his ear. “Please tell me that’s a good wow?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah- of course! It’s a great wow!” Steve fumbled over himself.

He widened the door in a motion for Billy to come in, and when he walked past Steve got a good look at his cut off denim vest embroidered with patches and colored with quotes, the denim hanging on only by threads around the shoulders, but helped by some great placement of metal spikes. Steve wanted to reach up and run his hands across, see if they were painful to touch, instead he gripped the doorknob harder as he pushed the door closed.

“Good because this took me a long time and I’m not going to wash it out until I’m crawling into my bathroom drunk and exhausted.” His eyes were scanning around the room. Steve knows Billy likes his room, says it’s cute and homely, but he’s never seen it this messy.

Steve blushes hard as he starts to reach for one of his white cardigans he decided he wasn’t going to wear and threw on the ground earlier, when Billy catches his hand.

“Is this what you are wearing?” Billy asks, his voice low.

Steve watches with a hitch in his breath as Billy looks him up and down. Then he’s sliding his fingers over Steve’s skin so slow he can feel the ridges from the metal of his rings down his arm to brush across his borrowed tshirt bunched into the waist of Steve’s skirt. 

“This is a really, really good wow,” Billy whispers.  
  
Steve huffs gently, turning his eyes down shy, and slowly takes a chance to run his own fingertips up the exposed skin of Billy’s arms.

He’s wearing a muscle shirt under his vest, letting his golden skin and biceps and everything breath a bit. Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek as he traces the raised scar tissue of a tattoo on Billy’s shoulder.

“Thanks for, um, thanks for letting me borrow it.” Steve’s voice is jumpy at best as he pulls away from Billy’s arms.

He doesn’t want to stop breathing before the show even starts. So he collects his phone and his keys from his bedside table, sipping them into the deep pockets of his jacket, before thumbing a pair of blush pink inch high booties on.

Steve doesn’t miss the way Billy’s eyes get a little bit sparkly when he comes back and stands ever so taller than him.

“Looks Hell of a lot better on you than me, pretty boy. You can borrow it for as long as you like,” he winks. Billy’s still taller with his mohawk, Steve will give him that.

“I’m so going to use that against you. Might never see this shirt again,” Steve pockets a tube of lip gloss and then turns back to Billy. He slides one hand absentmindedly across where his shirt is tucked in to his skirt. The cotton is well loved and soft from washes. And Steve hasn’t washed it again, meaning it smells just like Billy. 

“Shouldn't we be heading out?” Steve is talking half to Billy. Half to his fingers itching to get back on Billy’s arms. There needs to be a temperature reduction in the room.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna mess this up the first time,” Billy agrees, his eyes still sparkling as he opens the door for Steve to walk through before him. 

Out on the sidewalk, Billy slides his hand across the width of Steve’s shoulders, then down to the small of his back. The motion is protective and comforting in a way that gets Steve’s heart driven up in his throat. 

Billy doesn’t take his hand away until they have to narrow down to a single file line to get down the stairs to the San Francisco subway. Steve has been on the transit all of one time, and then he was wearing jeans.

He tried not let it show how his knees got shaky as they pushed through the rotation bars, or how his lips quivered when Billy pointed out the area they have to wait by. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he tried to swallow down bile tasting fear.

Then Billy’s hands were back on him. Steering Steve ever closer and one hand nudging his chin to look up.

“Over there are a few guys who are going to the same show, if you can’t tell,” Billy nodded his pierced eyebrow towards a handful of people all standing close together, laughing, and dressed just like Billy. “I’ll introduce you to them all and... just, you remember what I said about living punk?”

Steve had his hands in his pockets clutching his baggy jacket tightly down to his body. “Yeah,” he nervously looked back and forth, searching for his words. “Yeah, uh, live and let live. Queer is punk-,”

“Yes to all that. You have a great memory,” Billy laughed. He never pulled his hand away from Steve’s chin so he vibrates with it. “But nah, I meant do you remember how I described the crowd being a family? Looking out for each other and protecting each other?”

Steve steadied his breathing as they took a couple steps to get closer. One girl with long brown hair curled on one side and the other shaved short, but designed with a buzzed heart. She noticed them as Steve was noticing her and she gave a little wave.

“Family,” Steve breathed, waving back.

“They are going to love you,” Billy whispered low so only Steve could hear. He ran his fingertips across the soft pale skin on Steve’s jaw, made only softer with the powder of his foundation, and then pulled Steve’s hand to lead him.

The subway ride was short but Steve wasn’t scared one second of it. He didn’t clutch down the sides of his skirt or dart his eyes back and forth wondering if anyone thought he didn’t have the right to be there and wanted to let him know.

No, Steve met Heather and Max, two beautiful girls who asked his pronouns politely and didn’t judge that he was a guy who loves pink things. Max was Billy’s sister, step-sister they corrected at the same time like a jinx.

Her and Heather were wearing matching thick black jackets poked with spikes and safety pins. Max turned around so he could see a detailed picture of pink lips painted on the back, shimmering like they were kissed glossy, and the words ‘A woman’s place is in the riot‘ scrawled under it.

They felt safe, Steve felt safe with them. And Billy’s hand was back on the small of his back as soon as the door to the transit slid open.

McKelly’s Bar was just as Steve imagined, dim and musky in a close together sort of way. Tall tables and a low hanging stained glass lights on one side, a huge open area with a short black stage on the other. The place was quiet for the moment but growing louder as more people filed in. Right in the middle wove a long curved bar made with cherry wood that shined under the lights.

Billy bee-lined and ordered, flashing an amazing smile, “Kraken and cola on lots of ice, and,” his voice trailed off as he turned to Steve.

“Oh,” Steve blinked, “just maybe a Sam Adams for me, thanks.” He took the cold neck of glass as it was offered to him. Leaning over into Billy’s space as Billy rested against the bar, one leg hiked up on a stool, and smiling so wide.

“The nights on me, you can get whatever you want, Stevie.” Billy took a sip of his tall glass brimming with ice and nearly black liquor. 

“Oh I know, I just so happen to like Sam Adams,” Steve slipped into the small space between Billy’s body and the bar and hopped up on a bar stool. Billy’s thick boots didn’t leave the metal pole under the stool, didn't move from where he was leaned over, so Steve let himself get close in a delicious way.

“Oh you knew?” Billy played back. His nose wrinkling with his smile and the piercing there catching the colored lights from the stage.

Steve hummed as he took a long drink, the cold felt so good going down his pink blushing throat. “It’s more I was hoping you would.” Billy was so close. The cold wasn’t helping much from that.

“Do you want a taste?” Steve asked. When Billy’s eyebrow quirked at the bottle, Steve shook his head. He held the bottle aside a hair and tapped a fingertip to his lips.

That gets Billy’s tongue wagging around his bottom lip. “I don’t really dig the taste of beer,” he joked as he leaned forward. Bracing one forearm on the bar top to steady himself while his other hand twisted around the long locks of brunette poking out from Steve’s jacket collar.

“Oh, and Kraken rum and black coffee tastes so much better? Are your taste buds even alive in there?” Steve was blushing down to the point of his nose, but he couldn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun. Especially with how his jab widened out Billy’s smile to as bashful one. Made him look down shy, and when he did his eyelashes were fantastic to watch.

“Got me there, pretty boy,” Billy drawled the words so fondly. His fingers still twisting around Steve’s hair as he pushed ever closer.

“Why don’t I sneak a taste and then tell you, hum? We will work through our beliefs and discuss findings?”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Important findings on modern punk taste buds and phycology, very important. Sounds like a fantastic idea.”

Then just as Billy was close enough to smell the hairspray, a sharp voice called out. “Billy! Get over here, would ya?” Max was walking up sharply, her red hair billowing out behind her ferociously. Billy groaned in annoyance, but it got caught in his throat when he noticed her hurried manner.

“Stay right here- just for a second? Okay, Steve?” Billy asked quickly and didn’t wait for his answer before he started off after Max.

Steve watches after him for a second as his mohawk disappears into the crowd. Then turns back to his beer. He jokingly presses a soft kiss to the glass lip, furrowing his eyebrows and really laying it on thick, before downing another long swig.

“Practicing kissing there, doll?” Steve’s head snaps up as he notices another man has come up to the bar. A normal looking guy, head cleanly shaven and a short beard. He’s wearing dark clothes just like anyone else in the bar, but his smirk is different. His aura feels so different.

Steve curls his fingers over the neck of his beer and chooses not to reply. Turns to examine the posters glued to the wall behind the bar instead.  
Sometimes people go away when he ignores them, sometimes they don’t.

This guy didn’t get the hint. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around here, love. Would remember a girl as breathtaking as you every day if I had.”

Taking a deep breath, Steve weighted his options. Then he took another swig, his beer almost empty, and decided he felt a little sharp that night just like the spikes on Billy’s vest. So he turned to the guy and smiled. “I’m a guy,” he announced.

It’s funny how the strangers face falls. Funny more if it wasn’t so painful. But Steve takes what he can get, if it makes this guy leave him alone it’s a victory.

“That supposed to be a joke, doll?” The guy doesn’t leave him alone.

“You know I’m actually here with someone,“ Steve tried for tactic two, “so if you could back-,”

His words stopped short in his throat as he felt a huge hand push into his jacket and grope his chest. The fingers squeezed hard around nothing, a boy’s chest, but they hurt. “Hey! What the fuck?!” Steve grabbed the guy’s arm and yanked him back.

“You ain’t lying,” the stranger wrestled with him. He was bigger and stronger. His arms covered in tattoos jumping as he shrugged off Steve’s hands from his one wrist and made a move for the hem of his baby pink skirt. “You a tranny? I can work around that.”

“Don’t touch me!” He raises his voice.

“He said don’t touch, bastard!” Rings the same time. Steve doesn’t have to turn to see Billy, he comes right into his field of vision and scoops up the stranger by the scruff of his jacket.

The guy is growling right into Billy’s face, shaking around and sputtering in the hold, but Billy watches back annoyed. He’s got a face that reads his grip on the man is a chore more than anything. Taking out the trash.

“Don’t know if you missed the group chat message, asshole! But that shit doesn’t float round here!” That’s Max’s voice, she’s short so her red head bobs over Billy’s shoulder as she hollers in this guy’s face. They might be step siblings, but when they have this similar of done-with-it energy they look related.

“Why don’t you head out to the street where we kicked the rest of the pervs?” Heather takes the stranger by his arm on the other side.

Steve can’t believe how quickly they have him caged in. How much it felt like correct justice for the way the guy was making him feel caged into his bar stool just a second ago. Billy is wordless as they start dragging him right out the door, taking out the trash.

It’s amazing, jarring in a way. Steve’s pushing his hands through his hair as hard as he’s taking shallow breaths trying to calm himself down. He is glancing around the room, around the people, feeling the music as it starts up slowly, and only then realizes that Billy is back standing in front of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “God damn, I’m so sorry about that asshole. We took care of it though, seriously. He’s so gone!”

Steve’s slowly catching his breath. He drags his hands out of his hair and down to cup around his neck. He hates how he feels how tense the muscles are under his skin. Just a second ago he was loose and free and drinking a beer Billy bought him, and now Billy’s looking at him like broken glass.

Steve looks down at the dirty floor. “I want to dance,” he grinds the words out.

“Are you sure?” Billy whispers close, only just loud enough to go over the music. “I can walk you home? It’s okay-,”

“I want to dance!” Steve repeats, this time raising his voice over the music. He lets out a frustrated groan before he snaps his head up to look right at Billy.

“Fuck that guy!,” Steve says with a push, taking his hands off his neck and fisting them into the lapels of Billy’s jacket. He squeezes the fabric hard. “He doesn’t get to take this away from me! I’m on an amazing date with you Billy, and I haven’t felt this safe in a very long time! I want to dance!”

That has Billy watching him with a slack jaw. Steve thinks for a moment that guy must have wrestled back against Billy harder than he put on. Then Billy’s moving his mouth, but his words are low so Steve can’t hear them.

“What did you say?” Gives a little tug to those lapels.

“Can I kiss you?” Billy shouts it this time, his mouth forming into a grin that gets butterflies dancing in his stomach.

“Wha-what?” Heat is rising his his cheeks as Steve glances around. They’re much more crowded in the bar than before, with the band starting around them, bodies standing on either side. Billy couldn’t have said that.

Steve feels a touch around his wrist. Billy has moved his hands, one to curl around his hand that’s shivering angry against Billy’s chest, the other to gently cup Steve’s cheek. He swipes his thumb along in such a soft motion Steve wonders if it’s real.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve takes a breath in, he forces himself not to look around at the people behind Billy, not to think too hard about all the eyes that could be watching them. He focuses only on the way Billy’s eyes are close enough to see the waves of green and blue moving inside of them.

“I so wish you would,” Steve breaths out.

Billy pulls him into the kiss hot, a longing that wasn’t in their first kiss that makes this one so much quicker. So much easier as their lips slot together and move to taste all the other can give.

Steve lifts his hands to wrap around Billy’s shoulders, loving the way his spikes scrape against his skin, and when he curls his fingers over the spikes they are sharp.

It’s so new, but so familiar; it’s like heaven kissing Billy.

“Babe,” the word is more a gasp, Billy lets up only because he needed air. Their noses rub together, softly, gently, while Steve’s taking small gasps of breaths to steady his nervous heart.

Then Billy smiles all wide and grinning in a perfect way for his handsome face. “Let’s dance, pretty boy,” he catches Steve in a soft peck one more time.

They go hand in hand into a mess of people, all black and denim, all spikes and patches. But Steve can only see them as his little family for one night. And he isn’t feeling like anything less than in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I get enough comments/kudos I’ll write part 2 Steve getting dicked in that skirt I’m not joking


End file.
